


Not A Virgin Anymore

by GiggleSnortBangDead



Series: Sex is Violent [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Incest, M/M, Stilinski Twins, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Werewolf Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1266988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiggleSnortBangDead/pseuds/GiggleSnortBangDead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hated that he could run on so little. All he had was four hours of sleep and adrenaline and some whiskey and protein bars and self loathing. He couldn't run well like this, but he wouldn't collapse. He wouldn't waste away, which meant he had to keep moving - but, God, how he wanted to waste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not A Virgin Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fourth installment of the Sex is Violent series. It'd probably help if you read the other parts of the series before you read this.
> 
> Title comes from Jane's Addiction's song "Ted, Just Admit It" which, incidentally, also has the line "Sex is Violent."
> 
> This might be a little rough.

Derek was getting tired of feeling all the time, of thinking. He knew it was selfish, because _Stiles_ \- but he was becoming so worn and sore. All he wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep for days. He wanted to lie still and warm and safe with Stiles - except not Stiles _now_ but Stiles _then_ , or what he had thought Stiles was then.

He hated that he could run on so little. All he had was four hours of sleep and adrenaline and some whiskey and protein bars and self loathing. He couldn't run well like this, but he wouldn't collapse. He wouldn't waste away, which meant he had to keep moving - but, God, how he wanted to waste. 

Exhaling, scrubbing another hand through his hair and then over his eyes and then down, scratching over his stubble, he thought about the overshine of Stuart's eyes. After all, it was better than thinking about the fear and then desire that had shown in Stiles's. 

He felt like an idiot, because it was so obvious and hadn't even occurred to him at the time. He knew what Stuart's eyes meant - inherently knew, because he had grown up with not taking school pictures, even when other kids teased him, and keeping his eyes shut or averted when someone pulled out a camera at a party, and learning how to blink at just the right time. He wanted it not to be true so badly that he had outright rejected the notion before even thinking it. It was too _impossible_.

Stuart couldn't be a _werewolf_.

He felt nauseous just imaging it. His heart got stuck in his throat, his whole chest feeling light and heavy at the same time in all the wrongs ways. Stuart, with a mouth full of sharp teeth and too much strength and a brother whose body bruised easily and whose full lips split so well to reveal a red that complimented pink perfectly and who had such a delicate, fragile throat, had been permitted to remain alone with Stiles.

He knew he needed to tell the Sheriff. This would have to be taken into consideration, and it was only right to contact him immediately.

But, Derek's finger hesitated over the _Call_ button. The Sheriff would want to know how he had learned this. He would have to explain the video - and he had omitted any mention of the handful of little films he had received from Stuart in the Sheriff and his earlier discussion. He didn't want Stiles's father to know anything about it. 

He almost did the wrong thing - _again_ \- and escaped into bed, not calling the Sheriff. This was all too much - and he didn't want to do any more. But, regardless of what he wanted - because when had he become so guiltless that that _mattered?_ \- he clutched his phone and dialed up the boys' father. 

"Derek?" The phone was answered on the second ring - and the Sheriff seemed so done. He didn't sound groggy, exactly, but he was probably in bed, lights having been flicked off, drunk enough that the notion of sleep seemed plausible, but sober enough to feel guilty about it. He had probably been halfway there, thinking hard about something else so his consciousness could collapse into exhaustion.

Derek lost his voice somewhere.

The Sheriff repeated, "Derek?" and then, "What is it? What's happened?" 

"Stuart's a werewolf." Derek said.

The other man didn't say anything for a long moment. Finally, he began, "How - "

"I don't know." Derek interrupted. "Peter must have - Stuart must have found an Alpha. Peter probably helped him. Stiles had said - He said they'd gone to do something earlier and..." 

The Sheriff allowed him to ramble off and then said, "I was going to ask how you knew."

"You're taking this well." Derek told him, hollow laughter rising in his chest. 

"No, I'm not. You're avoiding the question." And he sounded mad. Not livid - but a low simmering, like he _knew_. Like he had caught Derek red-handed, watching dirty movies of his sons. Derek said nothing. "Hale, I swear to God, if you do not - "

"Stuart sent me a video." Derek managed out. "And I saw his eyes. Wolves - We - Our eyes don't - There's a flare." 

It was so quiet that Derek thought maybe the Sheriff had hung up on him during his explanation. He was about to ask a shaky _Hello?_ when the man asked, "What can we do?" 

"For Stuart?" Derek clarified. "Nothing. He's - Don'e done."

"Done's done." the Sheriff repeated, the words murmured, like he didn't know he was saying them. "Do we need to go in tonight?"

"I... Don't know. Stuart doesn't want to hurt - Doesn't want to _kill_ Stiles, so - "

"Christ, what am I going to do?" the Sheriff cut him off suddenly. "What am I gonna do?" Derek had no answer. 

There was a long sigh. "I'm going to try to get some sleep. You should too. All this bullshit we did today - looking at legal paths and what to do with... With _them_. Fuck it, Hale. You and are I getting into that house - _my_ house - tomorrow and we're getting my son out."

"Okay." was all Derek could say.

" _Okay_." the Sheriff griped. "Fucking _okay_. I'll be there in the morning. Early. Be ready."

"Yes, sir." 

The Sheriff made some affirmative noise and Derek thought he was really going to be hung up on this time when the man said, tone a little lighter. "Get some sleep, Hale."

"I'll try." he responded automatically.

"Don't try." the Sheriff said, "Just do it. I need you at your best. Stiles is going to need you." and he quickly tacked on, "At your best." to get the point across.

Derek almost said okay again but refrained. 

"Goodnight, Derek."

"Goodnight." and the call was ended.

* * *

Derek felt guilty for falling asleep as easily as he did. He felt even worse when he was woken up at one in the morning by his cellphone ringing. Groping around in the dark, eyes sleep-blurry, he clicked on his lamp and checked his phone's display.

 _Stiles_ was calling, so he answered, voice as steady as he could keep it, "Stuart."

"Derek." Stu sounded smug, awake. "You never got back to me. Did you enjoy the video?"

"No." he ground out.

Stuart laughed. "I'll have to tell Stiles. It's gonna break his heart - he's already certain that your'e disgusted with him."

Flaring, "I'm disgusted with - "

"Peter came over." Stu said, his words lazy, mildly strained, like he was stretching. "It's lucky that I got Stiles relaxed or Peter might have needed some help keeping him still. You know," he rambled, conversationally. "You ruined him earlier. He was all frantic and weepy and hot when I came home."

"What did Peter do to him?" Derek asked. "Where is he?"

"Tell me your hero fantasy."

Derek blinked. He frowned. "I..." There was a pause as he tried to make sense of it. "I don't... _What?_ "

"Your _hero fantasy_." Stu repeated. Derek remained silent, so the boy sighed and said, "You know - What happens after you kill me? Or do you even kill me at all? How _welcoming_ is my brother once I'm out of the picture?" 

"I don't - " Derek cut himself off.

"You don't what?" Stuart prompted. "You've thought about it. Don't pretend like you haven't. So, tell me about it." 

"Is Stiles okay?"

Stuart snorted. "I told you. He was a complete mess when you left him. I had to work so _hard_ to convince him everything was okay."

"What did Peter - "

"Because everything _is_ okay." Stuart continued, ignoring him. "This is how things are supposed to be. _I_ was the one who took care of him for years. _I've_ been keeping him safe and _I_ will continue to. You can't really think some emotionally stunted, dumb thing like yourself could ever do better then me.

"Don't lie. You watched our little foray into erotic exhibitionism. He looked pretty happy with me, didn't he?"

Derek didn't say anything, couldn't, and Stu laughed. "That's _right_ , mutt. He looked happy. Has he ever looked at you with that amount of satisfaction? Did he ever say he loved you like that?"

He pressed the heel of his palm against one closed eye and felt his heart sinking. Stuart said something, and he missed it until the the boy repeated.

"If you tell me, I'll let you talk to Stiles." 

Derek almost whined, but he already knew how Stuart would laugh at him for it. His voice was hardly shaky at all as he strangled out, "My... My _hero_ \- " and he couldn't say the last word.

"Come on, big boy." Stu urged. "It's not so hard." There was a pause and he continued. "And, don't say you haven't thought about it because you have. And don't lie. I can tell if you're lying." 

"I can't - " Derek choked out. 

Stuart sighed, deeply put upon. " _Fine_. I'll make this easy for you. The way you see this going - do you kill me?"

"Maybe." 

"Maybe's not good enough. Do you kill me?"

Automatically, he said, "I take you out back. Or - I dunno." Derek swallowed. "I have Stiles wait outside. I do it away from him, so he doesn't have to see."

"Do you use your hands?" Stu asked, sounding so at ease, almost amused. 

"I would if you weren't - If you couldn't _heal_ from it. Probably rip your throat out."

"Ooh, how intimate. What does my blood taste like?" Stu hummed.

Derek closed his eyes tight and rubbed a hand over them. "I don't know." he said, strained. "It probably tastes like blood."

"Boy, are you thick." Stu stated. "So unimaginative. So unpoetic. Once you get past all that leather and stubble and fangs, you're just a boring dog, aren't you?" When Derek didn't respond, Stuart asked, "Does Stiles come to get you or do you find him?"

"It doesn't matter." Derek gruffed. "But I speak first."

"And what do you say?"

"I tell him it's okay. That it's done." 

Stuart hmmed. "Does he shake? Does he cry?"

"A little." Derek allowed. "He's mostly relieved."

"You know that's not how that would happen, right?" Stuart checked, close to snickering. 

"Yeah. But that's not the point." he reminded him.

"Yeah. It's not." the boy scoffed. "Do you hold him?"

"Yeah."

"Do you kiss him?"

"I don't know." Derek said.

"That's a lie. Do you kiss him?" Stuart repeated.

Derek allowed, "A little."

"Do you fuck him with my blood still under your claws? How far away from my body do you lay him down?"

"Jesus _fuck_."

Stuart laughed "It's just a question."

"I've played enough of your game. Where's Stiles?"

"In his room." Stuart said. "Hold on." Derek could hear the boy get up and start walking, A door was open and shut and Stu was sayIng, "Stiles, baby, say hi to Derek."

"Stuart, no." Stiles moaned.

"Stiles?" Derek asked.

"It's too hot, Stu. I'm not gonna - It still _hurts_."

"Stiles, what - " and the phone was pulled away.

"He doesn't seem up for conversation at the moment." Stu remarked, and his voice was turned to a sympathetic coo, like he was still with Stiles, trying to provide comfort. "I was much more lucid during the change - but he's always needed much more tending to than I have. " 

"How did this happen?" Derek balked. "Peter's not - Peter can't _turn_ \- "

"Oh," Stuart cooed. "Things change. Quite a lot when you're as ambitious as Peter Hale and have smart friends like me. I'm sure it must be hard for you to understand."

Tone changing back to conversational, as if he hadn't even heard him, Stu said, "I wish you knew what he looked like right now. It's such a shame he can only do this once. I've seen him through so many of his firsts, and this is one of the best. I bet you'd love to see him - squirming on the bed. His eyes are so bright, Derek. He's absolutely _drenched_ in sweat. I had to get him naked; it only made sense. All of that tension is keeping his body so tight, making him _writhe_ on his back. He's barely here. I could fuck him and he'd hardly know." 

"Stuart, please," Derek begged, immediately.

"Oh, don't worry, doggie. I've been documenting the whole thing very well. I'm make you a little electronic scrapbook when it's done. Let you see for yourself."

"You can't. Not - Not _now_. If someone - If he - Physical stress can be detrimental during the change. Please, just - Don't - He might not make it and I can't - "

"Nah." Stuart verbally waved him off. "Stiles'll be fine. He always is."

" _Stuart_ \- " he tried again, his voice rising. 

"Well, good talk, Derek. I'll send Stiles your love. Try to take care of your big, stupid self. You never know what might happen." 

"Just _wait_." Derek hissed, and the line went dead. 

His heart jolted and he sat shocked still for a second before falling into rapid motion, going through his contacts, all notion of wanting to keep this matter private gone. He couldn't handle an Alpha and two new wolves - especially not _Stiles_ , if he even made it, which he might not because the transitioning body can only take so much, and Derek couldn't even think about it. 

He tried to take a deep breath as the phone rang, tried to keep from vomiting, and settled on shallow breathing and a small whining sound when he got voicemail. He left a terse message, trying to keep his voice under control, mentioning Stiles several times, hoping at least that would get Scott's attention.

He tried Isaac next and was greeted on the third ring with, "Derek, what the fuck?"

"Isaac, I need to talk to Scott. Something's - "

"It's, like, three, Derek. What the fuck?"

Derek felt a nervous sound rising in his throat and he tried to swallow it. "Where are you? I need help."

"Scott and Allison and I are out of town. It's summer break - we've been planning this forever. We _told_ you. Or Scott told Stiles to tell you."

"I need Scott to come back now. There's a," Derek got some control over his voice, trying to sound less unhinged. "Peter's an Alpha, again - I don't know how. Stuart's a wolf and _Stiles_ \- " his voice broke. "If it takes, he'll be too."

Isaac was silent until, " _What?_ "

"Get Scott."

"I'm getting Scott." Isaac said.

And a drowsy voice sounded, "Derek?"

"Scott - "

"It's three in the morning."

He could faintly hear Isaac explaining the situation to him. 

"Derek, we're on a road trip. We're in," in an aside he asked, "Where are we?" Isaac murmured something and Scott said, "We're in Nebraska, for some reason. We'll head out now, but it's gonna take us a while. You need to tell me everything that's happening."

"I can't." he said, "Not on the phone. I just can't."

"Does Stiles's dad know?"

Derek made some harsh, unintentional sound. "No. Oh my God, no. I have to call him and tell him that - " the words bit off.

"Do you want me to handle it?" Scott said, and there were sounds of motion in the background. Derek could hear Isaac gently waking Allison up. 

"No." Derek said, his voice garbled by his emotions. He cleared his throat and repeated, "No, I can handle it."

"We're heading out now. We'll get there as soon as we can. And you'll fill us in." Scott ordered.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." 

"Is Stiles alright?" 

"I don't know." Derek said, and then amended, "No. Not at all."

"Are you alright?" 

And Derek got close to laughing hysterically. "I'm fine." he said, and he knew Scott could hear the lie, but he didn't mention it, and he must have said goodbye because he was gone in the next moment. 

Derek called the Sheriff. He went to voicemail the first time, so he called again. And again. And again. On the fourth try, Derek's head cradled in his hands, close to emotional collapse, the Sheriff picked up.

"What happened?"

"Stiles got turned." Derek hurried out. "I had to call Scott. He knows a little. I'm sorry, but we need help. And I'm so sorry. I should have known better. I should have known that he'd - "

"I'm coming over now, Hale, before this gets even more out of hand." 

"Of course," he said. "Of course. I'm so sorry I couldn't stop - "

"Hale, if you apologize one more goddamn time, I swear I'll," the Sheriff trailed off. "Just be ready when I get there."

Derek ran a hand over his face, and stayed on the bed for an amount of time that he lost track of. When he finally got up, he wandered immediately to the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face and avoided his eyes in the mirror with a learned expertise. Shuffling back into his room, he doffed his sweat-damp tank and found a pair of jeans to shimmy on. Just as he was looking for a clean Henley, there was a soft knock on his front door.

Derek quite suddenly experienced a whole range of guilt and worry, because he must have lost a lot of time after calling the Sheriff if he was already here. He had thought that he'd just called him and it was only the moment that he was opening the door (and subsequently found a firm hand around his throat, flipping and pinning him hard against the wall) that he realized just how far off he was.

“Darling nephew.” was hummed against his ear, sounding so light, so pleased. His breath was hot against the side of Derek’s face. Derek was held and held and held, the other man's body pressed tight behind him as he nosed at his neck, huffing like the whole thing was funny.

“Peter.” Derek growled, trying to throw him off, struggling as effectively as he could. Peter ground his hips down against his ass and stopped him abruptly. 

"You know, I thought about it incessantly, when I was your Alpha." Peter breathed against him. Derek's wrists were pulled up the wall, above his head, held by one of Peter's hands. His other came to grope down his side and thigh. "Unfortunately, I wasn't afforded enough time to get you beneath me. Such a shame, but we were all rather busy." Peter thumbed the button of his jeans open and pulled down the zip slowly. His fingers drifted in to cup him, his chest rumbling against his nephew's back in approval. "I suppose we'll have to make up for lost time, won't we?" 

Finding his words but not his voice, Derek choked out, "Stop. _Please_." The begging came out sticky and muted and weak, but Peter chuckled and let him go, stepping back. Derek turned quickly, eyes on the man and back flat against the wall.

"How'd you do it?" he asked, and allowed himself a moment to be grateful that this voice was a little steadier. 

Peter wouldn't look at him, because he wasn't enough of a threat to warrant observation. His eyes and fingers grazed over Derek's sparse belongings as he wandered his front room. "Stuart helped me. We have an arrangement." 

"An arrangement." Derek repeated.

Peter _hmm_ ed an affirmative. "It suits his needs to have an Alpha like myself, and it suits my needs to have a Beta like Stuart. And Stiles." He finally looked over to the other man as he added, "And you."

Derek tried his best to ignore that. "Who did you kill?"

"Stuart's been sweet-talking some Alpha a few cities north with a small Pack. After he was invited to visit, he poisoned her with Wolfsbane. I killed her, and then we got rid of her Betas. And now we're Pack."

"Just like that." Derek harshed.

Peter grinned. " _Just like that_."

"And Stiles?" Derek's voice broke in an all too embarrassing way.

"Don't you want to be Pack with him?" Peter asked, stepping towards him. "Real Pack - not that emotional 'found family' garbage Scott likes to preach." 

Derek started, "Mom always said that humans - "

"Were invaluable. Yes." he hummed. "I remember. Tell me, where is your mother now because of humans?"

"Hunters." Derek corrected, growling.

Peter waved him off. "That's hardly a distinction to care about. If I were you, I'd be ecstatic that my young, _true_ love was becoming stronger."

"If it doesn't kill him." 

Turning away again, Peter didn't bother to respond. "Where's Scott? I'm certain you've contacted him by now." 

"On his way." Derek said vaguely, finally getting enough control of himself to push off the wall. He didn't go far though, still wanting to keep his back protected and his eyes on his uncle.

"From where?" Peter asked, already sounding smug, and Derek tried to not say anything. His uncle huffed, sounding more amused than annoyed. Still, Derek said nothing, glowering as contemptuously as he could until Peter stalked a pace forward, teeth bared in a snarl, his eyes flashing red. Derek cringed, because an _Alpha_ was close to attacking him and nature dictated he was too weak to survive it.

"Nebraska." he said, rushing over the word to get it out. 

And, suddenly, Peter's face was smooth and smiling. He didn't give Derek his space though, instead remaining fixed in the spot in front of him. "See." he said. "Didn't that feel right?" His hand came up between them to clasp hard over the junction of Derek's neck and shoulder. "It like you were made to be my Beta; to submit to me." 

"You're insane." Derek snarled.

"You're _precious_." Peter cooed, mocking. "Look at you - trying to be mad. Glaring and showing your teeth like big wolf." He leaned in to scent under his nephew's ear, hand trailing over his naked chest and to the open front of his jeans. "You smell like fear."

Derek took the opportunity to strike him away, clawed hand coming into contact with Peter's unprotected side, knocking him over. He followed him down, knowing he only had one chance to tear the man's throat out. He got as close as his teeth on Peter's neck when he was hit aside and flipped onto his back. Peter, eyes red, fangs out, was on top of him, looking, at most, mildly pissed. 

"Really, Derek." he said, pinning his arms down with almost no effort. "It'll be so much simpler if you just submit. Scott isn't much of an Alpha to you anyway." Derek bucked his his hips up, trying to throw his uncle. Peter just pressed down harder, feeling hotter and heavier the more he bore down. "A good Alpha would have made sure that his Beta - no matter how weak - was protected in his absence." 

"I'm not - "

"Weak?" Peter supplied. He scoffed. "When's the last time you won a fight?"

" _Get off_." Derek spat.

Peter's expression brightened. "What a fantastic idea." and he was flipping his nephew over, grinding down against his now upturned ass. Derek squirmed even more under him, his legs kicking out frantically, pulling away hard to try and free his still held arms. 

" _Stop_." he grit out through his teeth, attempting to keep the pleading whine out of his voice.

"You can either submit to me or I can kill you." Peter said hot in his ear. "As someone who's been dead before, I can assure you that there are much worse things than being my Beta." He moved down to Derek's neck, murmuring, "You can just lie still this time; it won't be so bad. Leave your hands down or you'll regret it."

Peter sat up, straddling Derek's hips, and Derek lay motionless as told and hated himself more than he could bear. This wasn't a fight he could win; he wasn't smart enough and he wasn't strong enough. And he couldn't leave Stiles with these two. He closed his eyes tight as he felt Peter hooking his fingers into his jeans, ready to pull them down.

He heard the sound of a footstep, squeaking on the floor, and his uncle swiveled around and then slumped forward on top of him - but not until after a very loud _bang_. He felt something wet seeping onto his naked back, and he made some hoarse cry, scrambling out from under his uncle's dead weight.

Still on the ground, not ready to stand on his shaking legs, Derek saw the Sheriff's wide eyes and shocked mouth and smoking gun. Slowly, looking down, he saw the black hole in Peter's chest. they were silent until the Sheriff shut the door and leaned heavily against it.

"Wolfsbane bullets." he sighed, seeming to catch his breath. "Bought them from Argent. I didn't think I'd - Never thought I'd use 'em." 

"I'm glad you did." Derek said, finally standing. His heart lurched at the thought and said, "Not _glad_."

The Sheriff nodded and then gestured at Peter's corpse. "We gotta get rid of that."

Derek nodded. "I know a place. I'll - " He looked around. "I've got some dark sheets. We'll wrap him up and take him to the forest. I know a spot we can," he swallowed, the word almost not coming out, " _Burn_ him."

"I can take care of wrapping him. Do you want a shower for - " he gestured vaguely at Derek's blood-stained back. 

"N - " Derek cleared his throat. "No. I'll just, _uhm_ ," his voice going shamefully strained and high for a second. He brought a hand up to press over closed tight eyes. "I'll just wash it." 

The Sheriff nodded and let Derek disappear to find the sheets. He deposited them into the other man's ready hands and excused himself to his little bathroom. He found a clear washcloth and wet it. Taking a deep breath, he turned a little to see the mess on his back.

He made a hollow sound when he saw he bloody spot, right over his tattoo. It was smaller than he had imagined, but no less jarring, no less terrible. He felt himself flinch at the sight, bile wanting to rise in his throat, because that was _Peter's_ blood, his family's blood, and Peter had tried to - 

He reached an arm around to wipe the mess away, and it was hard because the spot wasn't exactly convenient. With a few swipes, his breath catching in near-hysterics, he was able clean away most of the red. He dropped the washcloth in the sink, unable to even consider stowing it properly in the laundry bin. He just tried to push it from his mind as he wandered out of the bathroom and to his bedroom for a shirt. 

He pulled on the first thing he could find and noticed that his jeans were still undone in the front. A noise was almost torn out of him like in the bathroom when he'd seen his uncle on his back. His shoulders shaking, he buried his face in his hands to muffle the sound, because the Sheriff had probably seen. He probably _knew_. It was embarrassing, and Peter, his uncle, who he didn't trust or like but was _family_ , had tried to - 

"You alright in there, Hale?" the Sheriff asked, and Derek jerked to look behind him, making sure the man wasn't watching perched in his doorway, seeing him break. The Sheriff wasn't anywhere in sight and, after clearing his throat, Derek was able to gruff out something affirmative. He grabbed his coat, putting it on as he stalked out, seeing what quick work the man had made of wrapping the body. 

"You get a lot of activity around here late at night?" the Sheriff checked. 

Derek shook his head. "It's mostly families and couples."

"Cameras?" 

"They aren't functional. They're more for, uhm, aesthetics." and that wasn’t word he wanted, but Derek didn’t know the right one, and he couldn’t explain Foucault and Panopticism and the history of modern surveillance at that exact moment. He blinked hard and tried to focus on his breathing.

"You know that for sure?"

"If they worked," Derek said, "Someone would have called the cops on me a while ago." 

"Okay," and the Sheriff was leaning down to pick up Peter's legs. "We gotta get him downstairs. The cruiser is just outside. We get him in and you tell me where to go. Okay?" Derek didn't move. "I can't do this by myself." Derek stalled, looking at a spot in the fabric that was a bit darker than the rest, a bit wetter. " _Derek_."

His eyes snapped to the Sheriff's face. "Right." He nodded once and bent down to pick Peter up on his own. The Sheriff opened the door and shut it behind them, leading Derek to the car. They stashed Peter in the back and it was almost too easy. 

They took off and that was all.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to be here for this?" the Sheriff asked, eyeing him sideways as Derek stood very still next to him, looking down at the body he'd dumped on the ground.

"I should."

"Won't the smell bother you?" He pulled the lighter fluid out of the plastic grocery bag. Upon realizing they needed matches and something to douse the sheets with, they had made a quick detour to the store. The Sheriff had run in and out, saying no more than _Thank God for self checkout_ when he reentered the car he had left Derek alone in with his uncle. 

"I mean," the Sheriff corrected. "Won't it be worse for you to have to see this?"

Derek gave a weak shrug and the Sheriff started to liberally coat the body in lighter fluid. "I should be here." 

"No." the Sheriff said, putting the can aside and pausing to look at the younger man. "No, you shouldn't. This is an order, Hale. _Derek_. Go wait in the car. I can handle this."

"I should - " Derek looked between Peter and the Sheriff, and he nodded. "I should go sit in the car." The Sheriff nodded and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

"Go catch your breath. You're doing okay, son." and he turned away before he could see the lost crumbling of Derek's previously stable expression, brow furrowing, his lips turning into a pulled thin line. He watched the man fumble in the grocery bag again for the matches, and then turned, heading to the car.

Once inside, the door shut behind him, his reaction was almost instantaneous. Everything fell at once, his breath coming fast, his heart trying to beat out of his throat, where it had gotten lodged. Gasping, he reached forward to clutch at the dashboard, trying not to hold too hard and damage anything with his claws. His head bowed, and quite suddenly, he was sobbing, still trying to breathe, unable to keep himself from crying out in harsh, shaky, gruff sounds.

"Oh, God," he said, mindlessly, panic and the lingering scent of his dead and gone uncle _who had tried to_ clouding his mind and making his head and chest and throat ache and throb and burn all at once. "Oh, God." One hand came up to hold at his own chest, feeling his heart trying to escape. "God, please." he begged, sobbing, "I can't. I can't. Oh, please. I just can't."

He didn't know how long he was there, gasping, hitching, but it must have been a while, because he felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him to sit back and someone saying, "Derek, breathe. Derek, breathe with me." 

The hand was gone once he was sitting back, but he could see the Sheriff's face and the open car door he'd come in through. "I can't." he wheezed.

"Yes, you can, Derek. Come on, breathe. In." and Derek sucked in a breath, his whole body shaking. "And hold it for a second. Okay, out slowly. _Slowly_." Derek exhaled through pursed lips and the Sheriff nodded, giving him a weak smile. "That's right. Again."

So Derek did it again and again, eye-locked with the older man while he spoke soft words of encouragement and nodded a little. 

"I'm so sorry." Derek said once he could, the words labored but comprehensible. "I'm sorry. This is stupid. I'm so stupid." 

"You're not stupid." the Sheriff said, reaching in front of Derek, into the glovebox, for a small packet of tissues."You're having a panic attack. Stiles used to get them all the time. It's no trouble."

"Still." Derek said, taking the tissues from him, his now-steady voice a little strained.

"Don't go beating yourself up over this. Things likes that," the Sheriff said, easily, "They aren't uncommon. Things are," he struggled to find the proper word, "Hard right now. You're doing your best. "

"You don't know that." Derek shook his head adamantly. "You don't know what I've done." 

"I know enough." the Sheriff cut him off, his mouth set in a line, his voice edging on grim. "I know all I gotta know."

"No, you - " Derek was about to say, but stopped himself and focused on steadying his pulse instead. Both men were silent for a moment.

"You know," the older man said, sounding a little distant. "When Claudia," and his hand waved away just as she had, "I... I wasn't the best dad. I was working all the time - and when I wasn't working, I might have drank a little too much. I made sure the boys had everything they needed, but I mostly left them on their own. 

"They relied on each other a lot. And, Stiles, he had been with Claudia when she passed and he... He blamed himself for it. I didn't know until later, a lot later, but Stu was the only one who was there for him. And they got even closer than before. Closer than everyone thought was normal. And I know, I _know_ I should have done something, corrected the behavior, but... They were all they had, and it was my fault."

"Thinking back, I think I could tell when Stuart started to hate me. Or, at least, when he started hating me openly. He might have always..." and he trailed off, rubbing hand over his face. "I could tell when he started to try and distance Stiles from me." He glanced over at Derek, who looked and felt so much steadier, calmed by the Sheriff's voice, no matter what the content. "It was real hard fixing things with Stiles after I cleaned up."

"Why are you telling me this?" Derek asked. 

The Sheriff considered his words and said, quietly, "I'm trying to say that you and I may have both done wrong by these boys. What's important is that we're gonna fix it."

"But - " 

Derek's phone went off, indicating he'd received a message. He pulled his phone from his pocket and saw that _Stiles_ had sent him a video. 

"What's that?" the Sheriff gruffed.

"It's - "

"From Stiles?"

"Stuart." Derek corrected, his voice too soft, almost lost. 

"How do you know? What is it?" 

Derek felt any calm he'd gathered flying out the window and his pulse pick up. "I just know." he heard himself mutter, but couldn't remember saying the words. 

"Derek." the Sheriff said, firm, and Derek met his eyes before looking back at the screen. "Derek," he repeated. "Just press play." 

Against his better judgement, he did. 

Stiles was scrabbling to get away, screaming himself hoarse, held in place by clawed hands. There was a snapping wolf on top of him, blocking most of his naked body from sight, and a low rumbling growl as he tried to pin the boy's flailing limbs. 

" **Stu, get him off, _oh please stop_ , Stuart, he's gonna kill me, _oh no oh please oh stop_. I can't - Peter, stop - I can't - ** "

"Turn that off." the Sheriff harshed.

"What?" Derek said, absently, the sound of his voice swallowed by his pounding heart. 

"Turn it off. We don't need to see that." And Derek didn't move, so the Sheriff took the phone from his hands and stopped the video just as Peter was biting in and Stiles was _wailing_ and _screaming_ **Stop oh please I can't take it oh God oh stop** and bleeding everywhere. 

They were quiet, but Derek could still hear Stiles screaming, his voice muffled and distorted by his phone's weak speakers.

"You know," the Sheriff said, conversationally "Claudia used to joke that one of them would be evil. You know, because they were twins - and one's always all bad." 

"Was it funny?" Derek rasped.

The Sheriff fixed his gaze on him, and then laughed, loud and humorlessly. "Yeah. Yeah, it was fucking hilarious.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dude, I almost didn't want to post this because I'm, like, four episodes behind - but I kinda figured it didn't matter. Hope this was okay and not too boring.
> 
> Shameless tumblr plug: [My Blog](http://gigglesnortbangdead.tumblr.com/)


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